Look to the Sky
by jasminefiregreen
Summary: She owed someone a favor; a very important person named Mycroft. Her task was simple; watch over Sherlock Holmes and don't die. Turns out doing both is a little harder than expected. OCxSherlock
1. The Study in Pink- Part 1

"Mycroft, what the bloody hell am I doing here?" I asked after my blindfold was removed. I was in his private office and he was sitting in front of me. He gave me a smug smile.

"Why, Miss Skylar, that language is highly inappropriate." He scolded me.

"So is kidnapping." I returned his jab and he lost his stiff posture and gave me a slight smile. It was strained and his phone was closer to him than normal. His eyes had a hint of worry and the only person he was ever worried about was Sherlock. I sighed and crossed my legs.

"What has Sherlock done this time?" Mycroft looked at me with a hint of approval at my deduction.

"He has a new...pet. His name is John Watson, he's an ex-army doctor." I rolled my eyes at Mycroft's term for Sherlock's friends.

"I take it you have already tried bribing him for information on dear little Sherly."

"Of course I have, this isn't my first time dealing with his strays. As excepted he didn't except the bribe." He looked at me with a gleam in his eyes and I felt a shiver go down my spine. He was planning something and it wasn't good. I changed my posture and leaned forward slightly. My expression turned serious.

"And what does all this have to do with me?" Mycroft smirked at me and folded his hands in front of him.

"You owe me a favor." _Bugger. _I sighed in resignation and looked him in the eyes.

"What do I have to do?"

I rang the doorbell to 221 Baker's Street and was exceedingly happy when Mrs. Hudson answered the door. I hadn't thought of an exit strategy if Sherlock had answered the door. "Hello, my name is Skylar; I'm here about renting a room?" I gave a polite smile and held back a giggle as Mrs. Hudson tried making herself more presentable. She had flour on her forearms indicating she had been baking, most likely bread. She opened the door wider and led me inside.

"I'm so sorry 'bout the mess, Sherlock never picks up after himself, and I hadn't expected you 'till later." She apologized embarrassed about the clutter that was in the room. I simply smiled at her and took in all the information; all the experiments, sheet music, and empty tea cups. I started to catalog all the information in my mind in a filling cabinet drawer labeled 'Sherlock and Watson'.

"It's fine, Mrs. Hudson. Do think I could perhaps see the room?" I wanted to get started on labeling and organizing all this new information before my main objective arrived. She smiled at me and could tell that this women was going to become a soft spot in my heart.

"Of course, dear." She led me downstairs into flat 221 C. It was a bit moldy and musty, but a little paint and it would be good as new. Mrs. Hudson looked at me wearily watching for my reaction. I looked at her and smiled brightly.

"It's absolutely perfect, I'll take it." She looked at me like the weight of the world was lifted off of her with one sentence. Apparently she didn't think anyone else would want to live with Sherlock. I handed over the rent money and security deposit that Mycroft had given me. If I was helping him there was no way it was coming out of my own pocket.

I gave her a small smile and shook her hand, "I have to go take care of a few things, but I'll be back in around 2 hours." I left the flat, got into a cab, and called Mycroft.

"It's all going according to plan."


	2. The Study in Pink- Part 2

After getting all my stuff, which fit into a grand total of five boxes, I went back to the flat. After I dropped of my boxes in my room and then went back up the stairs to Sherlock's flat. I opened his door and was shocked to find a drug bust going on. No one noticed me open the door, so I very quietly closed it. I ran down to my room and instead of telling Mycroft what was going on; I started go through my things. Apparently no one knew there was another room downstairs because no one even bothered to come down. So, after I hidden all my illegal substances I went back upstairs. I went back into the room as quite as possible and observed the people in the room.

Sergeant Sally Donovan was obviously having sex with the guy named Anderson due to the fact they were wearing the same deodorant and the redness of Donovan's knees. Anderson was clearly here because he was jealous of Sherlock's skills and Donovan was trying to get revenge for him rejecting her. Anderson was obviously stupid so it wasn't that hard to figure that out and Sherlock was absolutely gorgeous and married to his job. I was about to start on deducing Lestrade's love life when the door opened to show a dark-haired detective and a short blonde.

"What are you going?!" Sherlock seemed very annoyed that people were going through his things, I have no idea why.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." Lestrade shot back.

"You can't just break into my flat!"

"Well, you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?" Sherlock gestured to the people rummaging through his things.

"It's a drugs bust." Sherlock visibly stiffened and scowled.

"I'm not your sniffer dog!" He yelled at Lestrade.

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." I snorted quietly at his comment. Anderson looked insulted which made it so much funnier. Sherlock seemed to just notice that Anderson was in the room.

"What? Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

Anderson smiled smugly at Sherlock, "Oh, I volunteered."

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen." Sherlock glanced over at me, finally noticing me. He really had tunnel vision when he was focused. Which was the reason Mycroft was smarter than him.

"Not all of them are volunteers." Sherlock commented and Lestrade looked confused. Then Sherlock focused on what was going on. "So, you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade said seriously and I was suddenly very glad that no one had noticed that there was another room.

"I am clean!" Sherlock protested.

"Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock avoided the question, but I knew he had drugs in the flat. Well, I didn't know, but Mycroft did and he told me. Most of them weren't for his personal use; only for his experiments. Still, if they were found Sherlock would be in trouble. I started to try and find some of his hiding spots. I found 10, but only 3 of them could be found by the police. I blended in with my surroundings, a skill I happen to be very good at, and I went the hiding spots. I took the drugs from the places they were hidden and sneakingly put them in my pocket. I went back to leaning on the wall and I noticed Sherlock leaving the flat.

I immediately went out and followed him out of the flat. I waited until he was out the front door before I went down the stairs. I listened at the door and heard Sherlock talking to some. When he admitted to being a serial killer, I accidentally sneezed. It was silent on the other side of the door and I swore internally. The door was ripped open and I stumbled forward into someone.

"I'm terribly sorry" I looked up and saw it was Sherlock I had fell into. I immediately put on my dumb and clueless act, "I needed a smoke and I promise I won't tell anyone what I heard. Please, just let me go." I pleaded and tried to look pathetic. Sherlock looked at me surprised, but quickly appeared unfazed. The cabbie looked at me with disdain. The cabbie drew his gun and aimed at me.

"I'm sorry, I was planning on giving you a choice, but I wasn't excepting another person to find us." He glared at me and then turned back to Sherlock. "I'm going to show you how I did it. How I spoke to those people and how I got them to take the poison."

"And what if I don't want to go with you?" Sherlock asked.

"I shoot her." The cabbie told him and aimed his gun at solely me.

"Go ahead." Sherlock told him without even blinking. _Damn, I knew this job was going to get me killed. I so going to haunt Mycroft if I die. _

"I don't think you really mean that. Are you sure you want her death hanging over your head? Do you really want to become the monster everyone thinks you are?" Sherlock looked at the cabbie with determination in his eyes. That look made me shiver in fear. The cabbie put his finger on the trigger. Dozens of scenarios played in my mind, but I couldn't find a way out of this. The only thing that could prevent my death was if Sherlock agreed to go or if the cabbie missed which was pretty much impossible at this distance. Then Sherlock sighed and I felt myself relax.

"Fine, I'll go with you, but the girl stays." I let go of my breathe and then I remembered my job; watch over Sherlock, but there was no way I was going die for him.

"She stays, you might try something if I don't have a hostage." And I'm still screwed. Even if Sherlock does what the cabbie wants him to, I'm still a witness. A liability that can't be allowed to live.

** Sorry for the slow updates, I'll try to update faster. I hope you liked the story and if Skylar is too Mary-Sue please feel free to yell at me. Thanks for reading~**


	3. The Study in Pink- Part 3

**Hello, sorry for the slow updates I've been moving and school keeps me procrastinating. Thank you anyone who favorited or followed the story and thank you Itsjustallie for reviewing! **

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything Sherlock. I only own my glorious leaf water (tea) **

The cabbie shoved us into the backseat of the cab and started to drive. Sherlock glared at me in disapproval and I could practically hear him calling me an idiot. Then the cabbie started talking like an idiot. Did he not know who Sherlock was?

"Oh, I recognized ya. Soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Sherlock Holmes! I was warned about you. I've been on your website too. Brilliant stuff. Loved it." Alright, so he did know who Sherlock is, he was just very stupid.

"Who warned you about me?" Sherlock questioned and the cabbie kept giving him more information.

"Someone out there who's noticed." The old man said cryptically and I sighed. The cabbie shot me a glare.

"Who? Who would notice me?" I rolled my eyes and relaxed in the backseat. Obviously there would be no killing while in the cab and he was telling Sherlock enough to hopefully get us out of here alive. If Sherlock died, his brother would bring back from the dead and lecture me. Our, well my only hope was the Sherlock could get us out of this with our hearts still beating.

"You're are too modest, Mr. Holmes." I snorted and the cabbie looked back at me with an annoyed look. "Do you have something to say?" He asked me with a glare and I smirked at him.

"Obviously you don't notice Sherlock very well." The cabbie raised an eyebrow at me and Sherlock glanced at me. "Sherlock modest? You have to be kidding me."

"She is right." Sherlock agreed with me.

"Got yourself a fan."

"Tell me more." Sherlock pushed and the cabbie smiled.

"Not in this lifetime." The ride was silent after that and looked at me and I could feel his calculating eyes start to deduce me.

I glanced around the cab and decided I needed something that would keep both me and Sherlock alive. I started to use the tips Mycroft taught me. There was a picture of his kids on the dash. No wife in the picture, but he cares for the kids. There was no ring on his finger which meant his wife and him were either having troubles or were divorced. No sign of children on his person and his clothes were worn. He worked as a cabbie which meant late hours, so he doesn't have the kids. He's separated from his wife and she took the kids.

Then there was the look in his eyes when he found me behind the door. It was panic and anger. He was smart enough to take me with them, but he talks too much about what he is doing. He said someone noticed, but took great care to give no hints of his identity. That meant he was either afraid of the man or cared for the man. If he was afraid there must be more behind it. The man clothes and state of hygiene gave the general idea that he stopped caring, but he still cared for his children because the picture was still there. I furrowed my brow trying to think of what this man could be scared of.

**Sherlock's P.O.V**

Who in the world was this idiot woman? She acted dumb about listening to our conversation and know she was making her kidnapper angry; probably on purpose. I studied the ginger haired women. She was about 4 inches shorter than me and looked to be about 120 pounds. She wore clothes that would flatter her figure and her nails were cleaned and manicured; showing her pride in appearance. However the state of her unruly mess of curls and the lack of makeup contradicted that. She was in the loft and managed to stay unnoticed even though she was surrounded by police officers, she didn't even seemed fazed by it. She probably was familiar to sticking to the shadows. She was even smart enough to find some of my easier hiding spots for my drugs and even managed to remove the evidence from some of the more easily found spots. Now she was glancing around the cab and I could practically see the gears in her mind working. I didn't know what to think of her. She was intelligent enough to find my hiding spots, but let herself get taken easily by the cabbie. I saw her brow furrow and her brown eyes held a spark of intelligence. I slightly grinned, if she turned out to not be another stupid ape, she may be of use.

**Sky's P.O.V**

The stopped the cab and went to open the door on Sherlock's side. Sherlock immediately asked where we were even though he probably already knew. "You know every street in London. You know exactly where we are." The cabbie called him out on his lie. Guess the cabbie was smarter than I originally thought.

"Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here?" Sherlock questioned.

"It's open. Cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out." I had to agree with the cabbie, it was a wonderful job to have if you were a serial killer. You blended in and all your victims just walk into your car.

"And you just walk your victims in? How?" The cabbie pulled out the same gun he used to make me come with. "Oh...dull." Sherlock said in a disappointed voice.

"Don't worry. It gets better." The cabbie assured him and Sherlock seemed to cheer up a bit. Something that made me slightly uncomfortable. He led Sherlock and me up the stairs of the building and into some sort of office.

"You can't make people take their own lives at gunpoint." Sherlock argued when we got to the room.

"I don't. It's much better than that. Don't need this with you. Cos you'll follow me. Well, what do you think? It's up to you. You're the one who's going to die here." I started to move silently and slowly away from Sherlock and closer to the man. If I could get close enough to him I can take him down.

"No, I'm not." Sherlock said confidently. I rolled my eyes at the confident git. He had a gun pointed at him and he was still being cocky. I stepped on the wrong floorboard and it creaked. I froze and the cabbie quickly turned his gun on me. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"That's what they all say," He told Sherlock, but didn't turn away from me. He gestured to a seat at the wooden desk that was the main part of the room. I took that as a hint to sit my ass down. Which I did reluctantly. Sherlock glanced quickly at me with eyes that gleamed in excitement and I nearly groaned. I really had to get Mycroft to see his brother more. Sherlock's boredom looked to be slowly driving him off the edge. The cabbie turned back to Sherlock. "Shall we talk?"

"Bit risky, wasn't it? Took me away under the eye of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid." I raised an eyebrow at him, the police couldn't even find one of Sherlock's hiding coves. "And Mrs. Hudson will remember you."

"You call that a risk? Nah...this is a risk. Oh, I like this bit. Cos you don't get it yet, do ya? But you're about to. I just have to do this…" The cabbie pulled two bottles out of his pocket and sat them down on the table. I immediately leaned forward to look at them. There was two pink pills in each bottle and I was pretty sure that there was poison in them. "Weren't expecting that, were ya? Oh, you're going to love this." The cabbie practically gushed, but there was something in his eyes that dulled them. Sherlock sat down next to me and the cabbie sat in front of him.

"Love what?" Sherlock asked.

The cabbie ignored Sherlock, "Sherlock Holmes! Look at you! Here in the flesh. That website of yours, your fan told me about it." He complimented. I stayed silent trying to figure out how I was getting us out of this situation. I could get myself out, but Mycroft would kill me himself if I left his brother. Even though he didn't like to show it, Mycroft cared for his brother and that meant I was screwed. And judging by the twinkle in Sherlock's eyes; there was a slim chance that I would be able to get him away safely without him doing something stupid.

"My fan?"

"You are brilliant. You are a proper genius. The Science of Deduction. Now, that… is proper thinking. Between you and me sitting here, why can't people just think?" The cabbie gave me a pointed look and I rolled my eyes. "Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?"

"Oh, I see… so you're a proper genius too." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Don't look it, do I? Funny little man driving a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you ever know." It seemed the cabbie was very sure that the pills would make Sherlock think he's a genius. However, I couldn't see it. It wasn't the fact that he was a shabby looking cabbie; it was his eyes. They didn't hold the normal spark of intelligence you see in geniuses. They seemed dull like a doll. A doll…. wait didn't he say that someone told him about Sherlock. Like a puppeteer pulling the strings in the background, but there wasn't much proof to support my theory. I put the thought in the back of my mind filling it under 'Things to Look Into'.

"Ok, two bottles. Explain."

"There's a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the pill from the good bottle, you live. You take the pill from the bad bottle… you die." The cabbie explained.

"Both bottles are of course identical."

"In every way." I started to zone out thinking about my situation. If Sherlock took the right pills then the cabbie dies and I escape. If he takes the wrong pills then he dies and I end up dead in an alleyway. There was something that just didn't add up. A random choice between two bottles, but the cabbie hadn't taken the wrong bottle once. It was unbelievable that he hadn't once taken the wrong pills, but some poisons can be taken in small doses in order to build a tolerance to. It would make more sense if the cabbie had built a tolerance and therefore doesn't die even if he ingested the poison.

"Oh, I am playing. This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. Traces of where it's happened before, so you obviously you live on your own, there's no one to tell you. But, there's a photograph of children. Their mother's been cut out. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph is old, but the frame's new. You think of you children, but you don't get to see them; estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts. Ah, but there's more; your clothes. Recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least… three years old? Keeping up appearances, but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about? Ah… three years ago. Is that when they told you?" Sherlock deduced.

"Sherlock." I tried getting his attention, but he ignored me. "Sherlock!" The cabbie glared at me.

"Shut up." Sherlock rudely told me. I growled in frustration, of course he isn't going to listen to me. He is going to be a prat and get us both killed.

"Told me what?" The cabbie asked.

"That you're a dead man walking." I frowned at that. It could be his motive, but it didn't seem to fit very well. He seemed to only care about his children and impressing Sherlock. He wouldn't care if he was dying.

"So are you." The cabbie retorted.

"You don't have long, though. Am I right?"

"Aneurism. Right in 'ere." He pointed to his temple. "Any breath could be my last."

"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people." Sherlock said in disbelief.

"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can have with an aneurism."

"Fun? You think killing people is fun?!" I said outraged. Sherlock shot me an annoyed look. I glared back at him and then I saw a mischievous look in his eyes. I saw his arm move quickly towards me and then everything went blurry.


	4. The Study in Pink- Part 4

**Hello again, sorry for the slow updates. I hope you enjoy this chapter~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.**

I woke up in an ambulance with Sherlock sitting in front of me. Some paramedic was trying to put a shock blanket on him. I narrowed my eyes at him as I remembered his arm coming towards me. I slowly got up and made my way towards Sherlock. I stood behind him and glowered at him.

"You are an idiotic bastard." I said in a low tone and the corner of my lips twitched when he jumped in surprise. He turned around to glare at me, but when he saw the look of death on my face he thought better of it. "You knocked me unconscious!" I yelled at him. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Well, you were wrecking everything." He said quickly.

"That doesn't mean you get to knock me out!" He looked at me condescendingly and my eye twitched in annoyance. Lestrade was heading over to us, so I gave one last dirty look at Sherlock then turned my attention to the Inspector that Mycroft had told me about.

He had graying hair and a face worn with stress. He was shorter than Sherlock and his eyes were tired. I walked out from behind Sherlock and introduced myself to the man.

"Hello, I'm Sky. You must be Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, I've heard a lot about you." I reached out and shook his hand. He eyed me suspiciously and I grinned at him.

"And just who has been telling you about me?" He questioned and I ignored him. He turned his attention to Sherlock when he realized that I wouldn't be telling him anything.

"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me." Sherlock pointed the orange blanket draped around his shoulders.

"Yeah, it's for shock." Lestrade told him.

"I'm not in shock." Sherlock looked insulted by that very idea.

"Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photos." Lestrade grinned and Sherlock rolled his eyes. I started to distance myself from their conversation and make my way towards the black car that escaped everyone's eyes. I walked up to the tinted window and knocked. It slowly rolled down to reveal Mycroft wearing his annoying smirk.

"What is it, Miss Skylar?" He asked politely and my eye twitched.

"It's Sky and we need to have a chat about the favor you called in." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked innocently and I leaned closer to the window.

"You know what I mean." I said coldly.

"You wouldn't want to take back your favor, do you? After everything I've done for you?" Mycroft said with a hint of a threat in his voice. I stared at Mycroft trying to get him to back down, but I failed. I rolled my eyes and relaxed my posture.

"Fine, I'll still keep an eye on your darling idiot brother." Mycroft smiled victoriously. I walked away from Mycroft's car and thought about how many times I would be 'almost' killed. Then I saw Sherlock standing with John and my eyes narrowed. I walked over to them and stood directly in front of Sherlock. I glared up at him. "You are an idiot." I told him and he glared at me.

"You're the idiot, you were ruining everything." he shot back at me.

"I was trying to stop you from getting yourself killed." I retorted and he scoffed at me. "You were so caught up in the game of catching the killer that you didn't think. Didn't you realize that both bottles were poisoned? Nobody can beat the odds of dying that many times without a trick up his sleeve." I informed him and his eyes widened. _Stupid bloke didn't even realize, so much for being a genius. _I left Sherlock and John and walked to the street. I managed to get a cab on my first try and I gave him instructions to the flat.

I was settled into my big comfy chair in front of the fire, reading a book on body language. I heard a door slam shut and I smiled. _I wonder how long it will take him to realize he has a new flatmate…_

Two weeks, two weeks and the idiot finally noticed I was here. I was practicing piano and I started to play a piece by Mozart. Apparently, he heard me because two minutes after I start playing he was barging through my door. He wore a scowl and was still in his robe.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" He asked in disbelief when he saw me behind the piano. I smirked at him.

"It's about time you noticed. You're getting a little dull, Sherlock." He glared at me.

"You're that idiot who was kidnapped with me."

"And you're the idiot who almost got me killed." I told him. He looked around the flat and observed my part of the flat.

"You've moved in." Sherlock looked at me with disdain. "You've only met me once and you are already obsessed with me." I glared at him.

"I'm not obsessed. I signed the lease before I even met you." He looked me over and scowled.

"Mycroft hired you to babysit me." He said with snarl.

"Well, you clearly need to be babysat; your stupidity almost got you killed."

"I do not need to be watched!" He yelled and left my part of the flat with a huff. He even slammed the door like a three year old. I rolled my eyes at his antics. Honestly, he was a grown man yet he insisted upon being a child. I sighed and went into my kitchen to make a some tea.

There was a knock on my door five minutes. I left my tea and answered the door to reveal John Watson standing there with an apologetic expression. I smiled at the short man.

"Hello, you must be John." I shook his hand and invited him in. "Would you like some tea?" He shook his head.  
"I won't be here for long. I just came down to apologize for Sherlock's actions." I waved off his apology.

"Nah, it's fine. Mycroft already warned me about his temper tantrums."

"I DO NOT HAVE TEMPER TANTRUMS!" Sherlock yelled from upstairs and I smirked. John looked at me with suspicion.

"So, you work for Mycroft…"

"Kind of, more like I'm doing him a favor." John had an uncomfortable expression on his worn face. "Don't worry, I'm not here to spy on you two lovebirds. I'm just here to make sure Sherlock doesn't get killed."

"I'm not gay." John protested and I laughed.

"I know, you have far to many girls coming in and out of your flat to be gay." John blushed. "Now, you might as well go back upstairs and try to calm Sherlock. Or else we will be hearing angry violin music throughout the whole night." John smiled.

"Mycroft sure did tell you a lot about us." I nodded and watched as Dr. John Watson went back upstairs. I locked the door after him and went back to my tea.


	5. The Blind Banker- Part 1

**I am sooo sorry for the lack of updates. I don't really have a good excuse besides writer's block and moving. Thanks to anyone who followed/favorited and reviewed. I will try to update more regularly and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Sherlock or anything in the show. **

It was quiet and has been since Sherlock's visit. Neither John or Sherlock had visited me after that. John was probably wary of the fact I work for Mycroft and Sherlock was still throwing a temper tantrum, he didn't even ask for his drugs back. Which was good because I wouldn't have given them back to him anyway. I was about to start cooking when there was a thump from upstairs. There was a crash and I jumped to my feet. I grabbed the gun that I had hidden by my door and started to slowly make my way upstairs. There were several grunts and yells coming from the flat and I really hoped that I was not walking in on John and Sherlock. I crouched near the door and opened it slightly. It was open just enough for me to see Sherlock fighting with a man covered in scarves. _I can barely fight in a dress, how can he fight wrapped in scarves? _I was about to step in and do my job when Sherlock pointed towards me. My breath got caught in my throat.

"Look!" Sherlock yelled and the attacker looked towards me in mid swing. Sherlock took advantage of the distraction and punched the attacker in the face. The guy in scarved crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap and Sherlock dusted himself off. He turned around and sat in his chair with a sigh. I straightened from my kneeling position and opened the door fully. Sherlock's eyes narrowed at me.

"How did he fight with those scarves?" I asked and Sherlock rolled his eyes at me. "What? It's a legitimate question." I looked around the room and saw that it was a mess. Things were pushed over, broken, and there was papers every where. I sighed and started to pick up some of the papers.

Sherlock just stared at me with a frown. "What on earth are you doing?" He asked in confusion and I lifted an eyebrow at him.

"What does it look like?" I gestured with one hand at the papers I had started to stack on the coffee table. Sherlock just looked at me with the same frown. "I'm helping you clean up before John comes back." I explained and Sherlock sneered at me.

"I don't need your help." He said sharply and I resisted a groan of annoyance.

"Of course you don't." I said in a patronising tone and continued to pick up papers. Sherlock stared at me for a few more minutes and then realised I wasn't going to leave. He let out a huff and started to straighten some of the furniture that had fallen over during the fight.

Ten minutes later the flat looked as good as new. Sherlock was sitting in his armchair reading and pointedly ignoring me. I was sitting on the sofa with my legs crossed and I smile on my face. It probably greatly annoyed Sherlock that I had stuck around after we had finished cleaning, which is why I did, so he was giving the silent treatment. Other than to annoy Sherlock, I was still there because I wanted to check on John and try to earn his trust. The whole 'protecting Sherlock' job would go a lot easier if I had John on my side.

A few minutes later John walked into the flat looking very pissed off. He noticed me on the sofa and his expression grew slightly darker. He decided to ignore my presence and look at Sherlock.

"You took your time." Sherlock said pretending he hadn't just fought a man clothed in scarves.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." John replied and his mood to seem to darken even more.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock asked dumbly not noticing that his friend looked like he wanted to punch something.

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine."

"Those machines are quite annoying." I commented and John sent me a glare while Sherlock continued to ignore me like the child he was.

"You had a row with a machine?" Sherlock lowered his book and looked at John.

John sighed, "Sort of; it sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got any cash?"

Sherlock held back a smile and nodded towards the kitchen, "Take my card." John started to walk to the kitchen before he turned back to Sherlock.

"You could always go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left." John complained and I shifted slightly on the couch trying to get more comfortable. John glanced toward me with the same annoyed expression he had been giving Sherlock. "And what the bloody hell are you doing here?" He asked.

"Well, it's my job that Sherlock doesn't get himself killed." I explained and gestured towards the man-child.

"That doesn't mean you can just let yourself in and take up the sofa!" I shrugged at his annoyance, but decided to rethink my battle strategy. I was originally just going follow Sherlock wherever he went and make sure he was in my line of sight at all times. However, I need to get on John's good side so he can help me keep Sherlock out of trouble. I debated a few options in my head. I let out a sigh and went with the 'eye in the sky' strategy; I would resort to staying out of their lives while still keeping an eye on them. It would involve a lot more work and the purchase of binoculars, but it would do.

I got up to my feet and stood in front of John, "You're right, it was terribly rude of me to drop in unannounced. I'm sorry for causing any inconvenience, I'll take my leave now." I apologised to John and was about to go out the door when Sherlock let out a snort. I turned to look at him and he was quietly chuckling. I think my eye may have twitched. "What's so funny?" I asked sharply and Sherlock stopped laughing and relaxed into his chair.

"That was such a good performance, I almost believed it." He said with amusement in his tone and John looked at me with confusion.

"Sherlock, what are you talking about?" John asked and I groaned internally. There goes my plan of getting on John's good side.

"She wants to get on your good side, so you'll help her keep an eye on me. She figured if she apologized and left that you would see her in a better light." Sherlock told him in a smug voice while looking at me with contempt. I really wish I could shoot him myself, but Mycroft would surely make my life a living hell if I did that. Instead of shooting the prick I counted camly to ten and tried to remember why I was going through all this trouble. I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair. I looked at John's insulted face and smiled slightly.

"Just trying to make my job easier." I explained in a light tone as if I hadn't just tried to manipulate him. He glared at me in return, "Well, I'll take this as my cue to leave." I turned to look back at Sherlock who was still sitting in his chair, "Do try to not get yourself killed again, I would hate to have to explain your death to your brother." With that I exited their apartment and closed the door behind me. I waited till I was back downstairs before I let out a groan of frustration. I tugged my hair into a messy ponytail and massaged my temples; already feeling a headache coming on. I reached into my back pocket to grab my cell phone when I realized it wasn't there anymore. I started to panic slightly and I began to search my flat for it.

Ten minutes later and it was still missing. I racked my brain for possible places it could have gone and then realized what had happened. I had it with me when I went upstairs to Sherlock's flat. It would have been ridiculously easy for Sherlock to steal my phone out of my pocket. I was irritated and distracted for almost all the time I was up there; it would have been like stealing candy from a baby. I dropped my head into my hands and marveled at my carelessness.

An hour later and I was at a crime scene with a very annoyed expression on my face. The police thought it was a suicide until Sherlock had told them they were wrong, at least that's what the officer at the door had said. The police really needed to train their officers better with just a few minutes of flirting I had not only gotten into the crime scene, but was also informed of the theories. I glanced back at the officer at the door to the flat and shook my head at the young man. He was too trusting to be on the force when anyone could be a serial killer. I turned my attention back to crime scene.

Sherlock already seemed to be getting ready to leave the crime scene, so I quickened my steps. Sherlock noticed my presence first and gave me an arrogant smile, pleased that he had managed to take my phone. I glared at him and my hands twitched with the need to wipe that smirk off his face. "Sherlock, give it back." I said loudly not wanting to beat around the bush. John looked at me surprised and a man next to them looked at me with annoyance.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" John asked with a hint of resentment in his tone. I ignored him and stared at Sherlock. He seemed to be in a better mood compared to the past weeks of temper tantrums.

"Who the hell let another civilian in here!?" The mystery man glared at me. "I do not want this scene getting anymore contaminated then it already is!" I turned my gaze the man and tried not sneer at him. I was already not having a very good day and I did not want to deal with this self-important man. I looked at him coldly.

"Don't worry, Officer, I'll be out of here as soon as I retrieve my stolen property." I told him and then very pointedly dismissed him. I turned my attention back to Sherlock. "Give it back." I demanded sharply. The headache that was forming earlier was in full force now and the throbbing was not improving my already sour mood.

Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out my phone. I went to take it from his hand, but he held onto it. I looked up at him in irritation and he smiled. He leaned towards me, so he hovered over me. I fidgeted at the closeness. "Let go." I told him slowly trying to control the discomfort I felt.

"I wonder why Mycroft chose you to keep me alive when you can't even keep track of your own phone." He said quietly and I raged internally. I wrenched my phone out of his grip and stormed away from him.

**Sherlock's P.O.V**

She was quite amusing for someone who was supposed to be an inconvenience. She was so easily irritated by him that it was almost comical. It certainly wasn't boring watching her reactions to his remarks. He smiled, he wasn't sure how she would react after he took her phone, but he knew it would be entertaining. And he was right, as always. It was an added plus that he learned something useful about her from the interaction. She had tried to hide her discomfort at his closeness, but the tension in her shoulders had revealed it. Sherlock smiled mischievously, if he couldn't persuade Mycroft to call off his guard dog then maybe he could get a little entertainment from it. He might even be able to use her as a test subject in his experiments. John had gotten a bit upset after the tranquilized incident, so he had been looking for a new test subject. Having the guard dog around could actually be beneficial.


	6. The Blind Banker- Part 2

**Sorry, for the lack of updates. I've been going through really bad writer's block and my laptop happened to die recently. I mourn the loss of that laptop :( Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything besides my OC.**

I was woken up with a start by my phone ringing. I answered it without thinking to look at the Caller I.D. and I instantly regretted that decision when I heard the other person on the line.

"Come upstairs." Sherlock demanded and I groaned.

"How the hell did you get my number?" I absently ran a hand through my curls, wincing when one of my nails snagged on a tangle.

"Are you really that dull? I honestly thought Mycroft would have gotten someone with a higher I.Q. to guard me." Sherlock taunted and I clenched my jaw in annoyance. Of course he would look up my number when he stole my phone. Why on Earth would I think that he would pass up an opportunity to annoy me?

"I just figured that Mycroft's brother would have better manners." I started to get out of bed and winced when my back let out numerous crunching sounds.

"Come upstairs, unless you don't even have the intelligence to walk up a flight of stairs?" It was a childish taunt and I knew he only said it so I would go upstairs, but I still felt the need to grind my teeth together.

"Why do you even want me to come upstairs? Does the _genius_ detective Sherlock need help on his _little_ case?" I crossed my arms over my chest childishly, even though Sherlock couldn't see me.

"Says the girl who couldn't eve-" His reply cut off abruptly. I waited a few seconds for his reply, but there was only silence.

"Sherlock?" I asked suspiciously. Then I heard a muffled scream on the other line. "Sherlock?!" There wasn't a reply.

I started to run upstairs while my mind ran through different scenarios. Sherlock could be getting attacked by the same man that attacked him yesterday. Panic flooded through my system as I sprinted up the stairs to Sherlock's door. My mind was filled with images of his dead body laying on the ground and Mycroft holding a gun to my head. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it while jerking the door forward. My other hand reaching into my waistband to pull out my gun. As soon as the door was out of the way, I lifted my gun and got ready to shoot. There was silence, unbearable silence, and you could hear a pin drop. I slowly entered the room and I placed my index finger on the trigger guard, flipping the safety off in the same movement. I could feel my blood rushing in my ears and I fought the urge to run. I moved forward silently keeping my gun at the ready.

Then the sound of a door slamming broke the silence. I instantly pivoted and turned my body towards the direction of the sound. I braced myself for the recoil of my gun and aimed at the chest of the person coming through the door.

"Would you put that thing away? I'm sick of people pointing guns at me." A snarky voice said and I managed to stop myself from pulling the trigger.

"Goddammit Sherlock! You nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought you were in danger, you prick!" I shouted at him. I lowered my gun, even though I was tempted to shoot Sherlock in the foot, and I tucked it back into my waistband. I relaxed my muscles and glared at him while he just smirked.

"Well, how else was I supposed to get you up here? It's not like you would come willingly."

I debated just leaving and telling Mycroft that he could find someone else to play babysitter, but I wasn't going to let Sherlock win. So, I put on the fakest smile that I could. "Of course, how could I be so rude. I should have just come upstairs as soon as you called. Shall I make you a cup as tea as an apology for my rude behavior?" I asked in a sickly sweet voice.

"I don't have time for your domestic behavior, I'm trying to solve a murder." Sherlock scolded me and I felt my eye twitch.

"If you're so busy, then why would you waste your _precious_ time talking to me?" Sherlock glanced at the coffee table in the living room. It was covered in papers that looked like they were haphazardly thrown on the table. I looked back at Sherlock and I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"Wait, does the amazing Sherlock need help? Oh, that's just rich." I smirked at Sherlock's angered expression.

"I don't need help. I just need someone with a simpler perceptive to take a glance at the case." He said quickly with a scowl and I internally cheered. This was the perfect chance for me to take Sherlock down a peg.

"So, you need my help. Don't worry Sherly, I'll help you in your time of need." I walked over to the coffee table and sat down on the floor. I immediately started reading and sorting the papers that covered the table. I had already gotten to the second paragraph of a police report covering a breaking and entering incident at a bank when I felt Sherlock's glare on the back of my head. I attempted to ignore him, but I only ended up re-reading a sentence without any of the information sinking in.

"What is it Sherlock?" I asked with irritation in my voice while still staring at the report. I waited a few minutes for his response and sighed when I was met with silence. I turned around to look at him and found him frowning at me. "Sherlock." I repeated and he snapped out of whatever thoughts he was having.

His expression turned to annoyance, "Why on Earth would you waste my time by reading those reports?" He scolded me. "I could easily tell you more about the case than those papers can."

"I didn't think that you would waste your time explaining the case to me." I told him with an eyebrow raised. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at me.

"Well, surely if I left you on your own, you would take hours." I just rolled my eyes at him and smiled.

"Fine." I said sarcastically, "So, tell me about the case."

Sherlock's P.O.V.

He wasn't even sure why he wanted her help. She may be slightly more intelligent than the average person, but that didn't mean she was on the same level as him. So, why in the world did I want her perspective on the case. Maybe it was because John wasn't here and his skull had mysteriously gone missing. He frowned as he considered where it could be. probably took it, she was always moving his stuff. Either way, he didn't understand what insanity had led him to asking for the redhead's presence. She was an oddity. She had gone back to her flat downstairs after he had informed her about the case. She said something before she left, but he hadn't bothered to listen to her. He had been too focused on what to do with the redhead. He should probably figure out her name eventually if he was going to keep her around. There was still the question of how she knows Mycroft and why she is keeping an eye on him? He liked solving mysteries and this seemed like an interesting one. It helped that her reactions to his remarks are very amusing. Depending on how she behaved while helping him on the case will determine what he will do with her, he decided. If she was totally useless he would bully Mycroft into giving him another 'bodyguard'. If she wasn't totally useless he would use her to solve the one of the many mysteries of Mycroft.

Sky's P.O.V.

I had snuck away from Sherlock to go back downstairs after hearing about the case. There had already been one fatality in the case and it was her job to make sure that the next wouldn't be Mycroft's brother. I called Mycroft and gave him the details on the case Sherlock and I were working on. If this went bad then she wanted someone to know what was going on, not that he wouldn't know about it anyway even without her call.

There was one part of the case that stuck out in her memory as a threat and that was the man who can supposedly walk through walls. I had seen a case while I was still working directly with Mycroft that had a similar suspect. I frowned as I thought back to that case. It was right after I had become acquainted with Mycroft and it was the start of our partnership. Coincidentally, it was also the only case we wouldn't solve. Our last lead in the case had been killed before we could solve the case and it has always been a black mark on my solving record. If I was correct in thinking that the two cases were connected then maybe this was my chance to wipe off that black mark.


End file.
